


Bandages Over The Heart

by ChibiLincoln96



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Acknowledgement of Valdemar's canon asexuality, Because I lost interest but I know how it ends, But not in the usual sense of the word, Dark Psychology, Eventual Smut, Gender Dysphoria, Gore, Medical Kink, Not so sexy biting, On Hiatus, One sided slow burn, Other, Palace Intrigue, Psychopaths In Love, Sadism, Servants, Sexy Biting, Smut doesn't start until chapter 15, So I'll probably finish it eventually, Surgery, Trans Male Character, Tsundere Valdemar, Valdemar being creepy, Victor is a brat, Wall Pinning, a lot of teasing, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiLincoln96/pseuds/ChibiLincoln96
Summary: Victor, a lowly kitchen servant asks Valdemar to perform top surgery on him. What was just supposed to be the repayment of a service actually begins his descent into the dark world of The Courtiers and the Devil. A wise person once said "If you want to capture the heart of a predator, you can't remain the prey, you have to become their equal in every way."
Relationships: Valdemar (The Arcana)/Original Male Character(s), Volta (The Arcana) & Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. Anticipation

Victor weaved his way through the crowd of kitchen staff, arms stacked with little hor’ dourves plates. He set them on the already crowded trolley. He didn’t understand the Logistics of how Volta could eat so much and still be so tiny. He suspected there might be a portal to another dimension in her stomach.  
The creaking of the unlubricated trolley wheels on marble tile echoed in the palace’s high ceilings as he made his way to the courtier’s private meeting room. The instant he knocked on the wooden double doors, Volta threw one open. “Oh hello, my favourite servant.” she trilled and embraced him. She reached behind him to grab for a sweet to cram into her mouth. They pulled the trolley inside. Two others were in the room. Valerius asleep with his head on the table surrounded by papers, and Vulgora pacing feverishly by the far windows.  
“What have you got for me today? Oh, Raspberrry muffins, little filled chocolates, chicken sandwiches…” She started off with three muffins. Victor turned to leave.  
“No, sit with me, let’s chat.” she patted the sofa seat next to her.  
No, do leave, he’s boooring.” Volgora called out in protest. “His voice is monotone and he doesn’t react to insults.”  
It was a couple hours before Victor left their company with the now empty trolley. He stopped part way through the trek to attempted to fix the squeaking wheels. He got to his knees and concluded there was nothing to do but to oil them. Turning away, Victor’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Valdemar’s face was less than a foot away from his.They were bent forward at a ninety degree angle to peer down at him. “Never let your guard down. Anyway, I accept your request for an appointment with me. I assume you know how to get to the dungeons?”  
“Yes, I'm familiar with the secret passages.” Victor said casually. You shouldn't give Quaestor Valdemar the pleasure of knowing you've been affected by their antics.  
"Good, meet me there at 10pm tomorrow."  
"Isn't that a little late?" Victor asked.  
Valdemar just gave a small laugh and turned away to indicate it wasn't up for debate.  
Victor watched the model-esque figure walk away towards where he had just left. Finally things seemed to be looking up for him

"Where the hell have you been, 'boy'?" The head chef berated when Victor returned with the cart. Chef was one of those people that although they'll respect your pronouns, It's like you can hear quotation marks in their tone.  
"Ah, Volta was particularly chatty today." He explained.  
"Whatever, just go help Babouche peel apples." It was after dinner, but in a palace work never really stops.  
"Valdemar has agreed to meet with me." Victor told the always conversational Babouche.  
"Well good for you, I guess, but I don't see why you insist that freak be the one who performs your surgery." He said, giving a concerned look.  
"Truthfully, because what I want done is a bit odd and experimental.Tiddie removal isn't quite as simple as a standard amputation. Say what you will about Valdemar's eccentricity, but most everyone would agree that Valdemar is the most skilled doctor in all of Vesuvia." Victor said without looking up from peeling apples. "Anyway, I doubt anyone but a freak would help little ol' me."  
"Well be careful not to get a free heart removal with your 'tiddie removal'. Babouch said.  
"Ha okay." 

The kitchen servents were low on the palace hierarchy, so their sleeping quarters wer predictably shabby. Victor slept in a large room with five others, each person got a cot and a cubby. Each night, he drifted off to a chorus of snoring, farting, rustling sheets and rodents running about. On this particular night, sleep was of low priority as Victor practiced internally the conversation he would have with Valdemar about his reasons for wanting top surgery, the options for how he might repay this favour, ect. If Victor could be of companionship to the very needy Volta, running a few errands for Valdemar should be a piece of cake in comparision. He thought about how nice it would feel to see his uniform finally lay flat against his body, rather than bulge out at the chest, then hang loosely around his torso and arms. He could finally ask for a smaller shirt. If he was being honest, Victor was rather well endowed, but just in the chest area, and he sometimes wondered if it was vain that his main concern was that his shirt did not conform well to his body. Well, not the only concern, there was also the mental disconnect he felt for his body which spoiled bathing and intimacy, but god forbid he wear a medium shirt and small trousers, huh.  
Curiously, thinking about his own chest was making him curious about what might be under the Quaestor's shirt; if Valdemar had chest scars. If as a fellow non-cis person, but an enigmatic figure all the same, they were biologically male or female? It wasn't his business, but Victor assumed male, because Valdemar was so tall and angular, but contrastingly, oh my were they pretty of face, they walked with such grace…..And damn it now he was horny.  
Speaking of horny, Victor was sure the rumours about what lay under their head wrappings were true. In his mind's eye, he saw them bring their long, nimble fingers up to their head and slowly unwrap their headpiece, to reveal what he bet was medium length brown hair wrapped around their conical white horns. Imaginary Valdemar shook their head in slow motion, soft brown locks falling into place against the light green skin of their slender neck. They turned their head and smiled slyly at Victor. Thank god it was dark in the servants quarters, because Victor was sure he was blushing madly. "Okay, time to go to sleep. Oh please sleep before you go any further with this line of thought." He scolded.  
The head chef didn't think highly of people who worked while tired and it would be tough enough to stay on task as bubbling with anticipation as he was.


	2. Intimidation and mice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through three rewrites.

At 9:45 that night, Victor found himself on the oppressively dark stairs down from the library to the dungeon. He'd never actually been down here, but he'd heard about the secret dungeon from Volta. It was so dark he couldn't see his feet. Luckily Victor knew a bit of magic, just the basic, practical stuff, so he lit a flame in his palm. It didn't help much, so he felt his way against the damp, stone wall. There was a sound coming from somewhere that sounded rhythmic and mechanical in origin. Should he head toward that?  
"Welcome to my facilities." A voice came from directly behind him. "It's highly unusual that someone requests to visit me, let alone writes me a rambling letter to request my services."  
"Uh, thank you for your time." What was Victor supposed to say?  
The door to the dungeons was tall, ornately wrought, and was eerily backlit by a red light of seemingly otherworldly origin. Valdemar casually waved a hand and the doors unlatched with a loud clank and swung open on their own. They stepped ahead and gestured Victor to follow inside. "I'd ask you to please not touch anything. Please have a seat."  
There were two rough-hewn wooden chairs near a stone well of sorts with a padlocked wooden lid overtop. These are where the pair sat down. There were also human sized cages along another wall, but that was an observation Victor filed away to question at a later date. The air smelled like a roach infested mausoleum, but with a hint of antiseptic cleaner. Victor kind of liked it, but then again he also liked the smell of roadkill or rotten eggs, so presumably anyone normal would think the dungeon stank.  
Valdemar was staring at him expectantly and far too eagerly. "How to begin," Victor searched for words. "As I've explained in my letter: I'd like to have a flat chest, like society expects a man to have. Please could you cut my tiddies off. I would be very grateful. Also, If you can manage it, I'd like smaller nipples, too. Do you have any questions for me?"  
"That sounds like great fun, I'd love to do so." Valdemar flashed a pointy smile.  
"Uh, just like that easy, huh? As for payment, I'm not exactly rolling in riches, you understand. I was hoping that I could pay you back with my labour. I know you don't like to leave the dungeons much, so perhaps if there was something you'd like me to fetch from the market, uh I could do that." Victor offered.  
Valdemar absolutely cackled. "I was going to do it for free, but now that you've offered to pay, I'm going to take you up on that. They became serious. "In fact, I wonder how far you'd be willing to go to get what you want from me." They leaned forward in their chair, fingers steepled, elbows on knees.  
Victor glared at Valdemar for this admission. "I hope you know that last statement could be taken in a few ways". He winked. "Fine, I'm willing to haggle with you, it doesn't have to be an errand. I can do a lot, but if you'd have done it for free, then I'm not about to sell my soul for a flat chest." He had a teasing tone. Victor put his head in his hands and stared Valdemar down from literally two feet away. This green string bean wasn't the only one who could play at making people uncomfortable. "I could also clean the floor in here or something." And a bite of the lip at the word "floor" to to complete the act.  
Valdemar sat up. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I hope you know that a procedure such as yours would generally cost someone your whole year's salary. That being said, we could start with an errand, but just know that you will be at my beck and call for the next year." They said.  
"Alright fine, when can we begin the procedure?" Victor conceded.  
"I'm free all night." They grinned.  
"How about tomorrow? I'd like to be drunk for this as I imagine it'll hurt a great deal."  
"I have anaesthetics that are a lot nicer right down here if you insist on being drugged." Valdemar looked as if they'd think lesser of him if Victor accepted.  
"Nice try, but I don't trust you enough to be fully unconscious around you. I have a high pain tolerance, just alcohol will be fine. Tomorrow then?" Victor batted his eyes innocently.  
"Fine, but you're being awfully rude for someone who has asked me to do them a favour." Valdemar said, getting up out of their seat, now towering over the still seated Victor. "A smart boy like you would understand that I could kill you in seconds and there's nothing you could do to defend yourself and nobody would give a damn about your disappearance." They said all this while still smiling.  
"Either way, you'd be doing me a favour." Victor said with a face that he hoped read as casually suicidal.  
"I'm afraid we've come to the end of our time." Valdemar stepped aside. "See you tomorrow, noon." Another wave of their hand and the dungeons doors opened automatically.

When Victor got back to his dormitory, he was hit by a wall of minty stench before he even opened the door. It was dark inside and a lone figure sat up in bed.  
"Hey why the fuck does it smell in here? What even is that?"  
"It's peppermint oil. It repels rodents. The mice are back at it again." Babouche explained.  
"It's fuckin foul." Victor replied. "How am I going to sleep with this, I have surgery tomorrow and also possibly my death."  
"Wow, what crawled up your ass and died? Didn't go so well with Valdemar? See I warned you. Anyway, It's maybe a little overpowering, but I think it's refreshing." 

Just when you think you've gotten rid of all the mice, a new generation pops up to terrorise the kitchen staff and the whole castle, but mostly the kitchen staff. They'll get into the grain and sugar and leave their hair and droppings in it, contaminating the whole lot. One time, Victor went to pick up a pumpkin and he found mice had chewed a hole in it and were now living in it. A mother and four teansy hairless babies. The evil bastard part of his brain had thought they looked like chicken nuggets, and he bet they'd be a satisfying combo of crunch and squish between his teeth. He didn't do it, of course.  
Every nook and cranny the head chef could think of had been plugged up, now if only they could find the remaining nests, then they could stop them from breeding. The recently deceased count's borzois had been zero help. Decent guard dogs they might be, but they were not up to the task of hunting mice. Spoilt pooches. Victor had an idea that he may as well put in motion if it meant getting out of peppermint hell for the night. Now, who did he know that could track down anything vaguely food-like? Ah yes, Volta. He didn't think she'd be too upset with him visiting her estate this late at night. She had said to come over whenever he liked. She'd probably be finishing up her first midnight snack right about now.

There was a single light on that he could see in the decrepit mansion, so he approached that window. Standing on tiptoe, he could just see into her enormous dining hall. Yep, she was definitely in there. He knocked on the glass, and she visibly startled and rushed over to the window. She noticed him with a look of pleasant surprise and gestured in the direction of the main doors before running off.  
"Victor, what a surprise, welcome. Come in, it's a bit chilly tonight, yes? What's the reason for your visit?" She ushered him inside. They walked down the hall to the dining room. "I have a new cape, it's rabbit lined but much too big for me." She tried for small talk. She sat at the head of the table, he sat to her right. Victor tried to grab for an apple. She swatted his hand. "Mine." She yipped.  
"We have a mouse problem at the palace again." He explained.  
"Oh, mice are cute."  
"Maybe so, but they get into our pantry and eat and contaminate our supplies." He said seriously.  
"Oh that's horrible, so do you want my help catching them?"  
"I knew you'd understand, we could use your nose, and these mice look particularly tasty."  
Volta was so easy to manipulate. "Let's go." She said.  
It was nearly four am when they got back to the palace. Victor hoped they'd be done by eight because he had quite a bit of day drinking to do before meeting with Valdemar.  
"We in the kitchens hypothesis that there is a big nest of them somewhere, probably hundreds of mice. What's left to do is find them. We've checked most everywhere, though not recently. I think we should look up in Lucios wing, because the servants mostly avoid that, so I bet mice would like something away from the humans. It's directly above the kitchen, but a couple stories up, so that's fairly easy access to food. What do you think, Volta?" Victor monologued.  
"Oh, I'm sure there's nothing up there." Volta looked at her feet.  
"How do you know, we should at least check. I saw that other servants were searching the lavatories and the ballroom. Let's get on with our own search. I'm not scared of some musty chamber just because a guy died in it."  
"No really, don't. They'll be mad." She had a grip on his shirt.  
"Who's they?" Victor inquired.  
"Oh look, a mouse." Volta chased it over to a china cabinet, got on her hands and knees, and stuck her arm into the crack underneath. She pulled it out by its tail, squirming, and practically unhinged her jaw before dropping the mouse into her mouth. Blood squirted out and down her bottom lip.

"I'll be right back, Volta. I'm going to go get a drink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is when we'll finally get to the good, awaited cutting Victor open bit. The chapter should be up on the 5 th or 6th of December.


	3. Surgery

Victor made it down to the dungeons by exactly noon, where he found the doors to Valdemar's lab open and waiting for him. He was maybe a little too drunk, seeing as he'd tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs(he was fine, mostly) and vomited in the lift. He should probably tell Valdemar about that, but he feared their reaction.  
"Ah, what a brave little duckling you are, still coming to see me after I threatened your life." Valdemar said by way of greeting. They had a jug of water in their hands which they were pouring on the floor to wash what was probably blood down a drain near the operating tables.  
"Please take your shirt off and have a seat on this table."  
Victor did as he was told. He noted that the table had leather straps that were obviously for a person's wrists and ankles, as well as a larger one for across the waist. Kinky.  
Valdemar approached Victor with a focused look and put their hands on his bare shoulders. The focused look turned sour. "You stink."  
"Yeah, sorry. I threw up in your lift. Also I've been to Volta's estate and back on foot last night." Victor explained.  
"Disgusting little human, you're mopping up my lift before we continue."  
Victor went to grab his shirt. "Don't bother. Nobody's down here to see you, and you'll just have to take it off again in a moment." Valdemar thrust a bucket with pinkish water and a rag into Victor's arms. "Let's go."  
Someone else might have thought being made to kneel, half naked and mop up your own sick with a rag while Valdemar stood and supervised was degrading, but Victor was still too drunk to put any thought into their quickly cementing power dynamic.

Soon Victor was back on the table. He took one last swig of straight vodka from the flask on his belt before looking at Valdemar expectantly. Valdemar took Victor's breasts in hand and examined them with a small smile. "What are you doing?" Victor asked. "Trying to determine exactly how to go about this, obviously. I assure you, fondling you is doing nothing for me."  
Victor thought he saw potential for tenderness in those cold hands.  
"Lie down." They said. Victor obeyed. Valdemar fastened the straps onto Victor's wrists.  
'Don't say it. Don't say it.' He thought. "Hmm, tighter Master." Damn it, he said it. Valdemar actually laughed and adjusted the straps tighter.  
Then they jabbed a pointer finger to his left side. "What's this, why do you have a Mark of The Devil over your heart?" They pressed on the faint outline until it hurt and The Mark lit up gold. "How interesting, does it have anything to do with the six slash scars on your abdomen?"  
"Only tangentially, but that's a story for a different time. Get on with things before I sober up." Victor was too tired and drunk to tell stories.  
"Say that again, but nicer this time or I'll leave you strapped here indefinitely." Valdemar threatened.  
"Please get on with it."  
"That's slightly better."  
Valdemar left for a moment then came back with a cloth that smelled of rubbing alcohol. They wiped it over Victor's chest. Then they exchanged their black leather gloves for identical ones from their apron pocket. Victor's vision may have been blurry, but it seemed that besides being green, Valdemar's hands appeared normal. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Claws maybe?  
Valdemar held up a scalpel. "Brace yourself, this will hurt."  
If Victor had to describe how it felt to be cut into with a scalpel he would say "cold, bright pain." The scalpel was so sharp that it wasn't actually any more uncomfortable than getting a tattoo. that's a more dull, steady pain. Victor focused on Valdemar's face. He just noticed they had freckles.  
At some point, Victor must have passed out, because he found himself waking up. There were bandages on his chest and his head and chest ached, but he was alive, so that's the important thing. He found a leather pouch next to him. Inside were gauze pads, more bandages and a small jar of ointment.  
"Oh, you're awake." Valdemar wiped their gloves on a bloody cloth. "Expect to have some trouble raising your arms above your head for a few weeks. If you need more bandages, you know where to find me."  
"Can I go now?" Victor asked.  
"There's no reason to stick around." Valdemar replied.  
"No reason? Do you not like my company?"  
Valdemar seemed at a loss as to how to respond to that.  
"What if I want to get to know you?" Victor continued.  
"I'm not your friend and I'm not going to fuck you even though I can tell you want that from me."  
Victor blushed like crazy and hid behind his hands."Yeah, I should leave. I'm pretty hung over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In chapter 4, we unlock Victor's tragic backstory and he begins his end of the bargain.


	4. The Estate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains slight victim blaming and a degradimg term for a sex worker.  
> It only gets darker and dirtier after this.

Victor took the next two days off to lie in bed and recover, but he was right back to work on the third day. He was put on dishwasher duty, which was particularly painful for the stitches on his chest. Nearly every minute since he’d left the dungeons, even now washing a soup pot, his thoughts had kept turning to Valdemar. He wondered when he’d be called to repay his debt. He wondered what he’d be asked to do. No, commanded to do, ‘asked’ would imply that he had a choice. Mostly he’d thought about how hot he’d felt when Valdemar had called him a “disgusting little human” and when they had touched his naked chest and shoulders. He thought about seeing the glee in their vibrant red eyes from above him when he had been strapped to the table. Valdemar had the most beautiful eyelashes. They didn’t seem like the type of person to take the time to put on mascara, but that’s what it had to be, right?   
“Summons for Victor Chekov.” an unfamiliar servant had arrived in the kitchen. They waved a piece of paper over their head. “Would Victor Chekov please come with me to the carriage house.”  
Victor wiped his hands on his apron. “Yeah, that’s me.” The teenage servant and him exited the kitchen doors. They looked fearful. “I’m sorry to announce that you’ve been called to appear at Quaestor Valdemar’s estate. Please follow me and I’ll get you into a carriage. Do you have anything you need to get before we depart?”  
“I don’t think so.” Victor replied. He could tell the smile on his face was a bit bigger than this kid expected him to wear, given the nature of the summons.   
“I’m sorry.” they said again. “I don’t know what this is about. I bless you that you stay safe.”  
“I know why and I was expecting it.” Victor reassured. He started to walk the way of the carriage house. The messenger shuffled after him and gave him a look of suspicion. “You’re not scared of him?”  
“First of all, Valdemar’s pronouns are They/Them. Second of all, we’re practically friends.” Victor explained.   
The teen looked appalled. “They once caught me from behind and stuck a rag in my face that made me go limp. I was being dragged by my hair down the hall and I’d probably be dead now if Valerius hadn’t shown up to convince them to let me go.” The messenger wrung their hands. 

Victor stopped walking and faced the kid. “I owe them a favour, actually multiple favours. We have an agreement.” He said with a mysterious tone. Victor backed this guy up against a wall. A scaredy little brat could be fun to tease a bit, just as practice to get him into the mindset that helped him hold his own against the monster doctor. “What’s your name?” Victor whispered in the ear of this servant who looked about ready to piss themself. “Treyvon.”  
“I don’t want to hear you spreading rumours or fearmongering about the courtiers ever again. Okay, Treyvon?” “Yes sir.” The teen was taller than him by a couple inches and broader, too. They didn’t need to be at Victor’s mercy. “You need to learn to carry yourself in a way that doesn’t make you a target to predators.” Victor chastised as he ran his sharpened fingernails against this guy’s cheek. He backed off  
“By favours, did you mean that you and the Quaestor are fucking?”   
“Ha ha, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. That’s quite the rediculous leap of logic you’ve made. Now shut the fuck up. You may go. I know where I’m headed.”  
Nobody messes with Victor, but he knew inside that he was all bark and no bite. Valdemar could totally destroy him, but he’d leave this world talking shit. Maybe if he teased enough, Valdemar would get fed up, back him up against a wall and choke him or something.

The Palace carriages were beautiful with their gilt filigrees and were quite a bit taller than most commoner’s carts.It was easy to imagine himself as the count, especially as people on the street stopped to point and wave when they saw the carriage pass.  
Valdemar’s estate was the farthest away from the castle of any of the Courtiers. The carriage passed through a barren expanse of homogenous dead grass and sand before pulling up to the estate. It wasn’t nearly as decrepit and decayed as Volta’s but it didn’t look from the outside like anybody lived there. Victor got out and tipped the driver, then knocked on the enormous black wood doors. No answer for several minutes. He tried the handle and was surprised to discover that it was unlocked. He guessed Valdemar wouldn’t have any reason to fear intruders. Victor invited himself in. It was unlit, but spotless in there. The checkered marble floor sparkled in the late afternoon light streaming in from the still open door. There wasn’t any furnature except an empty steel table up against the left wall. The windows he had seen from outside all had heavy, dark curtains.  
“Took you long enough.” Valdemar appeared at the indoor entrance to the foyer and leaned a shoulder against the frame of the triple wide archway. “Close the door.” Victor did so, and was momentarily in darkness before one of the wall torches was lit.   
“I assume this is about my indentured servitude. I’m still a bit sore and the bandages are kind of tight, but I’ll do my best.” What was the gender neutral term for sir/ma’am? Sir’am? Where did his bravado from earlier go? The entire setting made him feel small.  
Valdemar pulled on an unlit torch and it turned sideways. There was a click and a portion of the wall swung open to reveal stairs with a light at the bottom. Victor followed them down. In horror stories this is where he’d probably find a torture chamber and he’d die there. “Tell me about your Mark of The Devil.” Valdemar said and it wasn’t a question.   
The room they entered was kind of torture chamber-ish but also kind of living room-ish, with weird contraptions hanging on the walls, one of which was definitely a thumbscrew, and a shelf full of jars of preserved organs and medical instruments, some of which looked really antique. There was however, also a set of sofas and a low table with a tea set on it and a handmade looking rug on the floor. The far wall had two book shelves on either side of a door.  
“Ah, Let’s see, the Devil. My story starts almost a decade ago. Have you met The Devil, Valdemar?”  
They laughed. “Met him? I work for him.”   
“Oh, that’s really badass. I’m not surprised. Anyway, when I was still a teenager, eighteen I think, I moved away from home without much of a plan. I ended up homeless and fell in with a bad crowd. We were a gang of thieves. Not all of us were actually bad people, we were mostly kids who had fallen on hard times. We stole mostly food, clothes and other necessities from the marketplace and the docks. We’d take it back to a system of caves. Our leader’s name was Luke. He had hair the colour of an autumn wheatfield catching the red-gold rays of sunset. Luke and I became a couple about a year into my gang involvement. I was sure he was my soulmate. When the plague came, Luke was one of the first ones to succumb. I became defacto leader as I watched the people I had come to love over the years drop like flies around me. However, the plague had yet to touched me. It absolutely broke me, I couldn’t live without Luke, couldn’t move on; I couldn’t let myself die as long as even one of our friends was still counting on me. I felt helpless as a leader. I hated the emotions and attachments that I had. I prayed for a miracle, a way to survive. The Devil came to me in my time of need and offered me a deal. I knew he was a trickster, so I thought hard about what I would ask for. I asked to lose the love I had for Luke. I asked to not have to empathise or be emotionally invested in humanity ever again. I told The Devil that if he granted me that, he could have my soul after I died. He agreed to my terms. I didn’t think I’d last much longer, but after that, I didn’t care. I ran far away from everyone I knew, away from the spread of the plague. I didn’t come back home to Vesuvia until I’d heard news that the plague was gone and the Count was dead. I went for a job in the castle, so many jobs had opened up with the amount of people who had passed. I was just another little cog in a much larger operation and it’s great. I don’t have friends so much as I have colleagues that I can tolerate. Anyway, here we are at present day.” Victor ended his story.  
The mood in the room was somber, but Victor had the Quaestor’s full attention. Their expression was unreadable, but they didn’t look upset.  
“What about the scars on your stomach? You said they were tangentially related.” Valdemar asked.  
“One time, the gang and I raided a boat, but the boat turned out to be owned by pirates who then sought revenge. I got into a sword fight with one of them.”  
“And you lost.”  
“No, I won. If I’d lost, I’d be dead.”  
They both laughed.   
“Are you ready for your first task? Have you ever heard of the Red Market?” Valdemar asked.  
“Heard of it, yes. Know how to get in, no.”  
“Then find someone who knows, I don’t care who.”  
“Don’t you know how to get there?”   
Valdemar’s cheeks coloured a little. “It hasn’t been around long and I’m busy.”  
“Once I get there, what am I to pick up?” Victor inquired.   
“Find the cheapest, most pathetic whore there and bring her to the palace dungeon alive.”  
“You dirty bastard.” Victor teased.  
“It’s not like that, I’m going to vivisect them. You see, nobody cares when a prostitute goes missing, but it would look bad on the court’s reputation for me to pick one up myself.”  
“That sounds worse. What’s a vivisect?” Victor asked.  
“Vivisection. Why don’t you stick around to watch next time and you’ll find out.” Valdemar said with dark excitement.  
“I can just look it up in a dictionary.”  
“Cooperate for once.”  
“Make me.” Victor teased again. He leaned back on the sofa and crossed his arms.   
“Watch out little ducking, you might just get your wish.” Valdemar was on him in a split second, now Victor’s arms were pinned behind his head at the wrists by a single large gloved hand. He felt a couple surgery stitches rip. They were basically in his lap,with their boney knees digging into his thighs.Valdemar's other hand gripped his shoulder like a vise. “You don’t understand what you’re getting yourself into by playing with me.” they breathed into his ear.  
“The danger is half the fun.” Victor’s dick was only theoretical and metaphorical but it was getting hard anyway. "By all prior indications, you're not into me anyway, so get on with it or get off of me."   
"That's not how we speak to our superiors." Valdemar bit the shell of his ear. A hand moved to his throat, but it did not squeeze, just gripped him a steadiness that belied the potential to. His ear stung like hell, and he was afraid to breathe but Victor wasn't about to show weakness in front of them. They licked the wound and pulled back to show him the blood in their mouth. "Remember to get the whore, but don't make me waste one with any redeeming qualities."  
They climbed off of him then, straightening their long coat. Victor felt like he was made of horny slime, about to ooze off the sofa. "So the magic word is 'make me.' Good to know." He said. "By the way, have you ever surprise chloroformed a guy, then dragged him away by his long hair."   
"That sounds like me, I don't remember."


	5. The Red Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The views stated in this work do not always line up with the opinions of the author. The author is a nice guy, even if Victor is an asshole. This chapter destroyed me mentally, but it was fascinating to work through the psychology of someone with such a lack of empathy. Trigger Warning for gore, more disrespect of sex workers and a transphobic slur.

Victor had looked up ‘vivisection’ in the dictionary. He hadn’t even really needed to because it sounded a lot like ‘dissection’ so he assume it was related. Yes, Victor understood that what he had been asked to do was wrong. However, he couldn’t really bring himself to care that he would be an accomplice in torture. He didn’t harbour any ill feelings towards prostitutes; people can do whatever they want with their own bodies. He wondered how it hath come to be that he’d do whatever Valdemar asked him to if it meant getting positive attention from them. Logically, he shouldn’t want to be in the same room with the murderous psychopath, let alone to attempt to romance them. Whatever romance even meant to people like him and Valdemar. Yep, he knew now that this was his goal; last evening at their estate had spurred him on.  
So how does one go about kidnapping a prostitute? He’d been given money to buy one, but the trick would be to get them into the dungeons.  
Step one would be to brew a Peace Potion and mix it in with some soup or alcohol.  
Step two would be to find someone who knew how to access the Red Market. Head Chef seemed to know everyone, so he’d start there.  
Step three is to go to the market and buy some dirty old hooker. He didn’t think the gender mattered. Bring them back to the palace without attracting suspicion. Maybe he should bring cloaks with him to mask their identities; or would cloaks just set off more alarms in people’s heads?  
Step four, get them to drink the potion and persuade them to walk towards the rendezvous point that led to the dungeons. There were many entrances to the dungeons, not just the one in the library.  
Fuckin ugh. It sounds tedious and Victor wasn’t the sort to talk to strangers.

By dinner time Victor had the peace potion disguised as wine and was ready to confront Chef.  
“Hey Chef Apollo, may I have a word with you in private?” He approached him as they were sat idly at a table, staring quizzically into a tea cup as the majority of kitchen staff trayed up the food to go to its respective locations. “Yes, whatever it is, you can tell me here.” Chef said. “Does this look like a sun or a shell to you?” he thrust the teacup in Victor’s face. He looked at the bits of leaf suck to the bottom of the cup. “I don’t know, kind of just looks a splotch, sir.”  
"Chef, do you know how one would go about getting into the Red Market?"  
"I don't, but I'll ask around, get back to me in a couple hours. We'll sort you out." He said. "Whatcha want to go to the Red Market for?"  
"Uh, potion ingredients."

2 hours later  
"It was a task so easy that you could have done it yourself." Head Chef explained. "Let me introduce you to Portia Devorak. She's just started working at the palace this week, but she says she knows how to get to the Red Market. Portia, meet Victor."  
Victor did not need the introduction. "No way, PASHA! Small world. It's been years."  
Pasha looked dumbfounded. "Natasha?" She jumped to close the short space, crushing Victor in a hug. Her red curls attempted to smother him.  
"Yes, but I go by Victor now. I'm a guy." He corrected.  
"Oh nice, I called it! Mazelinka owes me 20 coins."  
The chef butted in "So how do you know each other?"  
"We grew up together, for a while at least. We even courted each other when I was 16 and she was 15." Victor explained. His mood was turning sour with the implication that this girl who probably still thought the world of him would be escorting him on his dastardly mission. He dared not show outwardly that he was anything but delighted to see her.  
"Well, I'm glad you'll be able to catch up on the way to the market." Chef said, "But I've got much to do." He turned to leave the two alone.  
“So Portia, when could you be ready to go? I’m kind of on a time crunch here.” Victor gestured to his beige messenger bag, “I’m all set.”  
“Oh, you wanted to go right now? It’s already 9pm. I don’t really need to take anything with me, I guess.” 

When they were just past the palace gate, Portia spoke up again. “The Red Market is underneath the Colosseum. There’s a bit of a trick to getting in; I’ll show you. What were you wanting to get?”  
“Well, I told Chef Apollo that I was picking up potion ingredients, but the truth is that I’m on a bit of a secret mission for the palace’s head surgeon, Quaestor Valdemar. I can’t really tell you anymore than that, and I would appreciate it if you made yourself scarce once we reach the market.” Victor decided that honesty was the best policy. He’ll just omit the part about the hooker.  
“Oh, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Portia retorted.  
“No really, It’s not pretty. If you say a word about what you see here to anyone, you’re dead, and it’s not me that’s threatening you.”  
Portia didn’t look scared, but instead intrigued.  
They had reached the colosseum. Victor needed to change the topic. “So how’s your brother?”  
“Oh, haven’t you heard? He was accused of killing The Count. He ran away and I haven’t heard from him in about 2 years.” She frowned.  
“Oh, yeah. I might have heard something about that, but I hadn’t made the connection that Doctor Jules was Ilya. I’m sure he’ll be fine, the man always was crafty.” Victor reassured.

The Red Market had a vibe like no other. Even this late, the walkways were busy, people haggled and chatted in multiple languages. Most stalls looked makeshift and were set about in manner of organized chaos. The air was thick with the scent of incense and perfume and herbs. Victor wanted to look at everything, but he did his best to stick to the plan. He’d already spotted multiple people he suspected were prostitutes, but first he should probably buy some herbs since he’d said he’d come for ingredients. He stopped at the first convenient apothecary stall. It didn’t matter what he bought, obviously.  
After the unnecessary purchase, Victor looked for Portia but she seemed to actually have disappeared. For all he knew, she could have been kidnapped, or maybe she was hiding from him, but still watching. Or maybe she’d simply gotten distracted and ran off. It was most likely the third thing, but it didn’t matter to Victor. Her absence only made his job easier.

Damn there were a lot of hookers down here. One for every sort of taste, it seemed, and they all seemed to want his attention. Victor attributed this to his wearing a palace uniform, and not to his own sex appeal. “Hey kiddo, I won’t tattle that your out here. You can do whatever you want to me.” “Seems we got a lady-boy on our hands here. I’ll lick that pussy good, honey.” One woman in particular caught his eye, the only one of a group who wasn’t trying to talk to him. She was just sitting cross- legged off to the side. She was 40-something probably, on the thiccer side, and missing most of her teeth. Her pink hair with grey streaks was pulled back into a greasy ponytail. She wore only a short blue strapless dress, no shoes, just dirty feet. “Excuse me, miss. You seem a lot more polite than all these other girls. How would you like to spend a night in the palace?”  
She pointed at herself and mouthed “Me?”  
“Yeah, why not? I’ve got wine and an extra secret room where we won’t be disturbed.”  
“Yeah, sure thing baby.” She told him her price. “By the way, my name is Crystal.”  
As Victor was leading his victim towards the exit, he caught a glimpse of Portia in the crowd. She was glaring directly at him. He hoped she kept her mouth shut, for her sake. He had Valdemar on his side, and even lil old Victor had senority over her and a clean reputation, so who would people believe? Portia or them?  
Before they even got back to the palace, Crystal had downed half the bottle of peace potion wine and had started telling a pitiful story about losing her husband and daughter to the plague.  
They went down through the gardens rather than by the front gate. Victor grabbed Crystal by the waist from behind and leaned into what looked like a solid wall but was actually a portal. “Holy fuck, no way!” the ugly bimbo giggled.  
“Yeah, there’s lots of portals like that at the palace.”  
“How romantic. Imagine how many trysts between servants must happen in dark corridors like this.” She said, with a hand on her hip seductively. “I‘ve thought about it.” Victor agreed. It was rather dark, and the floor was dirt, the ceiling was glass. He wasn’t sure if where they were counted as ‘inside’ by definition.  
“You know the best part of the palace in my opinion is actually the bathing facilities.” he made small talk. Valdemar should be here any minute.  
“Oh, can we please do it in there. I promise to wash you very thoroughly.” Crystal suggested.  
Victor looked past her and saw red eyes glow in the distance. They grew closer.  
Victor held the poor woman’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry.” he whispered and tucked a stray pink wisp behind her ear. “For what?” she said, just as gloved hands came up behind her. A strong smelling cloth was held to her mouth. She struggled feebly, seemingly unable to process what was happening. Victor saw confusion and fear in her eyes, but with an effortless tap to her temple Valdemar knocked her out. They picked her up bridal style even though she probably weighed nearly twice as much as they did.  
“Come with me if you still want to watch the operation.”  
Victor tagged along.  
The specimen began to wake up just as Valdemar was finishing up strapping her down to the examination table. She didn’t struggle immediately, but looked around hazily before trying to sit up, realising she had only a couple inches range of movement, then seemed to sober up. She screamed and formed fists with her restrained hands. She stared directly into the Quaestor’s eyes with hatred tempered with fear. She spat in their general direction, but it did not make it all the way to their face. The spit landed on her naked abdomen. Valdemar laid out their tools on the table next to their ‘patient.’ “Scream and fight all you want, but we’re too far underground for anyone to hear you.” They said calmly.  
Her gaze deliberately passed over Valdemar to where Victor stood to the side. “You, I thought you were a nice boy, but only a monster would be talk to a poor woman like a friend whilst knowing it was all a trap.” Her words hit him like sharp icicles. Regret bubbled up in Victor’s stomach. Victor’s thoughts strayed even as Crystal shrieked in pain. Valdemar had began the incision.  
She really was just a poor innocent woman who had been friendly enough to him, telling him her back story. He’d seen the excitement in her eyes at the prospect of going inside the palace. Clearly, she’d lived a life of hardship, and here that life would end, brutally and anonymously, long before her time. What if it had been Portia on that operating table? It so easily could have been. Victor had gone through the same motions of being friendly while trying to disguise his intention. If Portia was on this table, would Victor care enough to attempt to put a stop to it. He scratched the area over his Mark of the Devil. Probably not.  
Victor became aware that Valdemar was speaking to him. “Why not move closer, so you can see what I’m doing.” Victor stepped forward. The victim had stopped screaming and squirming, but he could see through her exposed ribcage that her heart still beat. The red blood looked so vibrant and almost appetising against her pale, slightly jaundiced skin. Her meat looked not dissimilar to a pig that he might have observed the slaughter of in his day job. He looked up at Valdemar. They’d never seemed so at peace. They were smiling softly, eyes looking almost lovingly at the viscera in front of them. They said something, but Victor was too caught up in their beauty to hear what they said. Something about scar tissue on the liver.  
The caught Victor looking at them. The uwu smile shifted to a toothy, sly grin. “What a perfect specimen you’ve brought me. Maybe you will be useful after all. Would you like me to show you how to crack a rib?” Valdemar handed him a tool similar to pliers and moved behind him, putting a gloved hand over his smaller, bare one.  
‘Yeah, who gives a fuck about some random whore.’ Victor thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Holds you at gunpoint* Comment what you like and don't like about this fic, or else. I better fuckin see two new comments on this chapter giving me criticism, or else I'm going to rewrite ch. 6 to be shorter and safe for work. It's a shame too, cause chapter 6 is really sexy as it currently stands.  
> I really have no Idea what people are liking about this story. I used to write fluffy anime oneshots on fanfiction.net, so this is so far outside my comfort zone.


	6. What I Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Valdemar have an important conversation in the bath. Gender, sexuality or lack there-of doesn't get any less complicated as you get older, but you do learn how to deal with it.

“Ah, so that’s what was in the well.” Victor said as the two got in the lift together. “How do you keep the beetles from escaping?”  
“The beetles do escape, occasionally.” Valdemar said ominously.  
They had left the lab with the rising of the sun, though you wouldn’t have known it down in the windowless dungeon. The vivisection had turned into a dissection midway through. The operation itself was the easy part. Disposing of the body had been harder to stomach. Victor had offered to help dismember the corpse, but clearly Valdemar was used to doing everything alone. Although the dissection had an element of beauty and artfulness to it, watching Crystal be torn limb for limb was simply brutal, blood had gotten everywhere. Victor gave the carnage a wide berth, as this was his only uniform. Then the pieces were tossed in the beetle pit. The little guys had frenzied over the flesh, and Victor thought they even ate the bones. Victor was given gloves then he helped clean up the blood, but gingerly, again only one uniform. Valdemar had gone into a separate room to change into a clean uniform. Somehow, they immediately for blood on the new one. “We’re ready to go.” they’d told him. Victor watched as they gave the room a final once-over and scooped up a pile of extracted teeth to put in their apron pocket.  
“Oh man, I’m starving.” Victor said to offset the intimate atmosphere in the lift.  
“Shut your mouth unless you have something actually interesting to say. I hate small talk.” Valdemar warned.  
"It sure is cramped in here." Victor commented. Just then the lift rattled to a halt and the door opened. Victor did not have time to process this as he was pushed out and clutched at from behind. A hand squeezed at his throat. Valdemar's chest was pressed up against his back. "What did I just say about small talk?" Their tone was sinister, but had a playful edge. Their other hand pushed two fingers past Victor's lips and all the way to the back of his throat. He gagged sloppily."I have no use for a servant who makes inane comments. Do you promise to be quiet, or do you need further persuasion?" Victor tried to speak, but it came out as a moan. His throat muscles constricted painfully against the invading fingers. "I didn't quite catch that." Valdemar teased. Just then they heard voices coming from the direction of the library. "I trust you've learned your lesson." They said and stepped away from Victor. He followed them the rest of the way to the bookcase/door. Valdemar had their face up against the door, but made no attempt to open it, clearly eavesdropping. Victor heard Vlastomil and Valerius on the other side. "He's been asking after Nadia again," Valerius said. "But there has been no change in her condition. I'm running out of excuses, worm. In addition, Volgora has become increasingly restless, as you're aware."  
"I'm sure we'd all like to wrap this up and get on with our lives." Vlastomil interrupted. "But until I hear some actually good ideas, we must play this waiting game. As long as Lucio's spirit continues to linger, we can hold out hope for resolution."  
Victor raised his eyebrows at Valdemar. They looked back with a cryptic expression.  
"I have an idea." Victor whispered. "What if we give them a bit of a show as we emerge. It's no fun to gossip about someone who seems to have nothing to hide, we're going to look suspicious anyway: you've got blood on your shirt. My throat feels like it might bruise. What say we pick up where we left off? We could really mess with their heads?"  
"I like the way you think." Valdemar whispered back. They pulled down their mask.  
Now Victor was being picked up. He wrapped his legs around their torso. They emerged from the passage way and he was immediately slammed into a bookcase. Valdemar kissed him hard. With teeth. Victor put his left hand on the back of Valdemar's neck. The other slipped around to untie their apron. He made eye contact with Valerius, who looked shocked and mortified. Vlastomil looked like he had something to say.  
Valdemar let go of Victor's left leg, letting him down. Their hand moved to pull at his curly, black hair, forcing his head back. Their mouth moved to his neck, but they seemed to be holding back on leaving a mark.  
"Valdemar, just the creature I was looking for. We have much to talk about." Vlastomil interrupted them. They pretended to just now notice they had company and detangled themself from Victor. "And you work in the kitchen, right?" Vlastomil nodded toward him. Yes. I'm Victor."  
"Victor, please see yourself out."  
"Why?"  
Valdemar gave him a warning look. Fine. Victor headed out. "Just fucking turn me on then leave me to rot, huh?" He muttered once out of the library.

It was a couple days later. Victor was in a less than popular bath-room standing naked in front of a full length mirror. This room was less frequented due to the fact that there was a giant nude portrait of Count Lucio along one wall. The portrait was reclining, full frontal, posing with grapes and pomegranates. Lucio’s eyes looked directly at you while bathing. So yeah, Victor could understand why you would want to use any other bath but this one. The portrait didn’t bother Victor. What bothered him was other, living people seeing his toned, scarred, but unfortunately still feminine naked body. Victor examined his chest wounds. The left one was healing nicely, but the right one had a couple stitches that had popped open prematurely. It had bruised in an ugly, blackened way, and was a little tender. He should have told Valdemar about it, but they were the one who had manhandled him, causing this to happen in the first place. Victor left the mirror to get into the pool. The water was on the cool side, clearly they didn’t prioritise heating a bathroom no one liked. He swirled his hand in a circular motion in the water, sending out a magical pulse to warm the pool. He slipped his head under the now warm water. When he came back up he heard the scraping of stone and saw a floor tile move out of the way. Two white points emerged, then a green face. Valdemar saw movement and ducked back under the tile. "Hey Val, it's just Victor."  
They popped their head back up. "Don't call me Val." They weren't dressed in their usual uniform, but in a white knee length nightgown. "I don't mind if you join me." Victor said. "Nobody's ever here, on account of the creepy painting and possibly the less than convenient location, but that's perfect for me. I don't like people seeing me naked."  
"Me neither." Valdemar nodded. "Though I'd say I have more to disturb people with than you." Their nightgown dropped smoothly to the ground. They were completely naked underneath. They slipped into the pool. The water went up to their waist. "The courtiers don't try particularly hard to hide that we are demons, but we don't openly admit to it either."  
"How's your chest? Let me see." They approached Victor, who sat on a window seat overhanging the pool. They press their thumbs into his nipples. "Does that hurt?"  
Victor shook his head.  
"I ripped a stitch." He said.  
"It looks a little infected, but I think you can fight it off. Other than that, it looks like it has healed enough that I need not redo the stiches. Come down to my dungeon in a week and we'll remove them." 

There were a few moments of silence in which Victor committed the shape of Valdemar's torso to memory. They had scars of their own, but not like his. They had a long Y shaped cut from collar bone to belly button.  
They began to unravel the bandages on their head. It really was just a thin cover for horns. Victor had guessed that their hair would be brown and chin length, but it was actually dirty blonde and shoulder length. "I knew it!" Victor grinned. "I knew you had horns. That's so sexy of you. You have built in handlebars."

It almost looked like Valdemar was uncomfortable. "About earlier: don't expect that to become a regular thing. Physical intimacy and sexuality does not come naturally to me. I have more important things to do. That being said, you're the least repulsive human I can think to do it with." They admitted.  
"Oh, that's fine. I'll take that into consideration."  
"However, I do enjoy watching you pinned and squirming. I could almost get off on it." Their voice took on a sultry tone.  
"I've noticed." Victor breathed. They had moved closer to him again, only to just grab a bottle of soap from behind him and retreat to the other side of the pool.  
"After the first couple centuries of life, some of the trappings of the flesh begin to get stale. That's when you really get to know what you like and what you don't." Valdemar said as they lathered their hair. "I prefer not to have genitalia."  
"I noticed." Victor repeated. "I wasn't going to say anything. That's actually pretty cool."  
Valdemar dunked their head under water, then like a shark circling, approached him again, horns sticking out of the water but nothing else.  
They lifted their head, face now mere centimetres from Victor's crotch. You've been a fun plaything, but don't be deluded into thinking you're more than that. Set your expectations accordingly. What's fulfilling for me probably wouldn't be pleasurable for you." They sank their teeth into Victor's upper thigh. He threw his head back and screamed, instinctively gripping a horn. Valdemar jerked away, and laughed maniacally. "Good talk." They said, suddenly serious.  
Blood dribbled down Victor's thigh. "I'm not so sure, you seem pretty proficient with that mouth."  
Valdemar cocked their head like a kitty. "You're an odd one. Remember to come see me in exactly a week." And with that, they got out of the water.


	7. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four of the V-squad spend an afternoon in the gardens. Later, Victor experiences the social fallout of his recent actions when Portia and Babouche confront him. 
> 
> Content warning for language that may be potentially triggering to those with eating disorders and/or food addiction.

"I just need to eat constantly, even during times when it's not appropriate. I can't even count how many times I've had someone talking to me and I was almost ready to cry from the frustration, praying to myself "Please leave so I can eat. Stop talking, food is waiting." Volta was once again explaining her curse to the only interested party, Victor. She was sitting in his lap on a gilded bench in the palace gardens, while Victor fed her grapes by hand. They were pretending to be interested in Volgora's sword practice. Volgora needed an audience, or what was the point of being skilled. There was no glory in imaginary enemies. Victor had almost been dragged in as an opponent. That would surely have meant his death. Volta continued talking. "I know, logically that I'm not going to die if I go without food for a couple hours or even a day, but I just can't stop myself. Also logically, I know that stuffing my face will not make me feel better. I'll be happy in the moment, but I'll still be starving immediately after, and I'll be surrounded by the evidence that I am a freak. I'm going to eat anyway. I'm always planning my next meal, what I'm going to eat, how I'm going to prepare it, what order I'm going to eat it in. I've even read all about food. I could instruct you in a thousand recipes. I could tell you the nutritional content of just about anything, off the top of my head. Not that I even care about nutrition, I'll eat anything. My main concern is getting something into my mouth as soon as possible. I've torn my gums bloody before when chewing something that wasn't technically edible. You'd think that might mean, like, uncooked pasta, but I mean a bird's nest. I've had uncooked pasta many a time before. It's delicious compared to some of the things I've put in my mouth.You know, I don't really enjoy food anymore. When I really get into it, I just eat and my mind goes blank and I just become a black hole. It's not about the taste. I can't really have a good and proper binge at the palace. It would put too much attention on myself. Anyway, where would I even set down all that food? You know, I'm a bit shy. This curse, this obsession is embarrassing. I just want to be normal. I just want to be done with all this." She finished her monologue and laid her head against Victor's chest. She looked exhausted. "More grapes. Faster, just stuff 'em in. Quit this two at a time nonsense." Victor held her closer and complied. "Do we have more caramel?" Volta asked.  
A sound from the hedge maze distracted Victor from answering. Vlastomil appeared around it. He was carrying a worm the size of a large dog. And oh no, he was coming this way. "Good afternoon, everyone." The Praetor greeted. "Volta my dear, did you know you might have competition for ownership of your pet human?"  
"I, I don't have...he's not..."she began.  
"I saw Victor and Valdemar doing something unspeakable in the library." He continued.  
"When is the Quaestor not doing something unspeakable?" Volta said. Victor chuckled and high fived her.  
"Yes well, not like this. Victor, don't you have a real job to do, rather than fraternising with your betters?" The worm in his arms squirmed free and slid into the flower bed behind them. "Oh no, Wiggler stay. Don't go any further while Daddy's busy. Stay." He brought his attention back to Victor.  
"Feeding Volta is part of my duties, actually." Victor corrected.  
"Have you ever consider moving up in the world? You've certainly caught the attention of some powerful people."  
"I haven't given it much thought." Victor said plainly.  
"I would bet you know quite a lot more than a mere kitchen servant should know." Vlastomil continued.  
"That would be a safe bet."  
"Valerius and I would like to speak more with you on the topic of your recent associations. We have a proposition for you, if you would agree to appear at the next council meeting."

"Okay, just let me know when." Victor agreed.  
"Thank you, that was all." Vlastomil went crawling off through the flower beds and shrubbery in search of his pet worm.  
"Huh, I wonder what they could want?" Volta said. She got off his lap to search for more caramels.  
"It sounds like I'm up for a promotion?"  
Volgora came running up to the two. "You're not watching! I'm doing some really killer footwork over there. How will you two puny, defenceless softies ever learn how to defend yourself if you don't pay attention!"  
"The gardeners are not going to be happy with you for smashing and chopping all their hard work." Victor said.  
"Ha, I dare those delicate mortals to take their complaints up with me, then!" They bared their teeth and did a fake-out jump at Volta, who flinched so hard she fell backwards. "I'm just trying to enjoy the sunshine, why do you have to be like this." She cried. Volgora winced before getting down on their knees and reaching for Volta. "There there. It was just a joke. I'm sorry, Babydoll."  
They looked at Victor with menace. "What are you looking at? Leave before I claw your eyes out!" This wasn't the first time he'd witnessed them being sweet on Volta.

Later that evening, Victor was returning a trolley of dishes to the kitchen when he bumped into Portia. "Hey Portia, how are you liking working at the palace so far?" Victor greeted. "Hey what the fuck was that about the other day?" Portia accused, putting her hands on her hips. "You just brushed me off and left me at the Red Market alone. I saw you leave with a hooker."  
"I told you it was a secret mission and it wasn't pretty. Anyway, you got back on your own alright."  
"That's not the point. You don't just desert people you are on an outing with. You were also so cryptic with your explanations. I finally met Quaestor Valdemar recently and now I'm even more confused about why they would ask you to fetch them a hooker. They don't seem the type. Scary fellow, that Valdemar. Do you associate with them often?" Portia's voice got higher with every sentence.  
"I'm hoping to. Listen, please don't tell anybody what you saw."  
"I haven't, but I think you need to re-evaluate your life choices." She turned to leave. 

As if one person judging him wasn't enough for one day, even later as he was washing the dishes from that evening's meal, Victor was approached by Babouche. "I'm worried about you." He began.  
"When aren't you? Victor replied.  
"Anyway, earlier today when I was unloading a shipment from the butcher's I saw you and Volta and Volgora in the garden, then Vlastomil showed up and began talking to you. It all looked very sociable to me. Those guys are just as much bad news to hang out with as Valdemar. And you tell me about every single time you see them. You've been missing work. When you take a snack trolley to Volta, you are supposed to be in and out of there in a few minutes. Instead, you'll be gone for hours. People are beginning to take notice and they are going to talk. You know servants who willingly interact with the courtiers are treated with the same suspicion as the courtiers themselves. You're generally an aloof person who doesn't have friends besides me, they are going to be brutal with the rumours about you. Just a warning." Babouche pleaded.  
"Your concern isn't needed." Victor said dismissively.  
"Man, you're kind of an asshole. I'm just trying to watch out for you."


	8. Is this a test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets to explore the dungeon unsupervised.  
> Content warning for self harm

It was the day Victor was going to get his stiches out. He'd had no escort down to Valdemar's dungeon. The door into the facilities was open once again. "Hello Valdemar?" He called out. No answer. Victor looked around the space he was in. The first room one sees when entering the lab was a room with uniforms hanging up on the stone walls. There were also surgical masks and gloves. He decided to wait around by rummaging through the uniforms. Oh, there was a couple coins in the pocket of one. Nice! He put the coins in his pocket. Another smock had a bloody handkerchief. Victor quickly dropped that. It would be silly to get sick and die from a handkerchief that had probably been there for two years since the end of the Red Plague. On second thought, he wasn't sure that the plague was even spread by contact or that the contagion could even remain active for two years with no host. Victor smiled. These were things he could ask Valdemar when they showed up. Seriously. Where was the demon? He peered into the other room. It didn't feel right to be in there without supervision. On the other hand, this was a golden opportunity to snoop around. He grabbed a surgical mask and set foot in the main area. He walked toward the wall with the human sized cages, which were very intriguing. Up close, they had stains on their floors and were rusting at the edges. One had a clump of hair in the corner. He shouldn't touch anything. What of this was a test? Could Valdemar be watching him to see if he was trustworthy or a snoop/thief? He walked over and sat down on the operating table on the raised platform. There was a pair of small, sharp looking scissors sitting there already. If this was a test, could the coins he'd found be part of it? He took them out of his pocket and set them down on the table. Victor had once read about a test of loyalty meant for maids. The master of the house would put a coin under an object on a desk If when the master had come back and it was gone but it hadn't been returned to him, that meant the maid was a thief. If it was still there but the coin wasn't mentioned to him, that meant the maid was not thorough because she hadn't removed the object to clean. The correct thing to do was to return the coin to her master immediately.  
"Valdemar? I'm bored." Victor yelled again. He hopped off the table and kneeled to look at the tray of tools underneath. They were all gleamingly clean, unlike other parts of the dungeon. He picked up a scalpel. It looked sharp as hell. Victor had the urge to see just how sharp. He pressed the tip into his left wrist, cutting horizontally. It stung, but not a lot. Blood beaded to the surface of his skin. It looked so delicious and pretty contrasted by the pale skin of his wrist, like cherry sauce on a cheesecake. He went for another cut. It wasn't like he wanted to hurt himself for self punishment. Sure, he hated his body and lacked a self preservation instinct, but he wasn't upset right now. He was just really fascinated by blood and knives. He would have cut into any other piece of meat if there was anything but himself around.  
Suddenly, there were hands on his shoulders. The scalpel clattered to the stone floor. "That's the wrong direction to cut if you wanted to do some real damage. And it's too shallow if you just want a scar." Valdemar said.  
"I'm just testing out your scalpel. All your tools are so pristine." Victor replied. He got back on the operating table and licked the blood off his wrist.  
"Thank you. I try." See, that's why he liked Valdemar. Anybody else (except maybe Volgora) would have seen him cut his wrist and freaked out and lectured him. Valdemar understood it wasn't their business. "I found some coins in one of the uniforms in the entryway." He pointed.  
"You can keep them." Valdemar said.  
Victor took off his shirt and unwrapped his bandages.  
"This'll be a simple procedure, and probably won't even hurt, unfortunately." And they set to it. Victor tensed at the unnatural cold of Valdemar's hands, but after that initial reaction it was kind of soothing. It was uncomfortable to have his stitches taken out, but it wasn't in the top 5 most painful ways Valdemar had touched him. Oh, that's eye opening. Victor realised most of the times Valdemar had touched him had been painful. He'd also had his life threatened outright, along with more vague threats. And yet he loved it. He preferred it, even. He bet he had some repressed memories of abuse or something that made him think he was unworthy of people being nice to him, but this line of thought was exactly why he never did any self reflection.  
Victor had a thought. "I've told you my tragic backstory. Tell me something about you."  
"Why?" Valdemar looked perplexed.  
"Because I'm interested? Just tell me a story. I'm sure you've got lots of interesting stories."  
"Hmm. The first medical procedure I ever performed was a trepanning." "Oh, isn't that the thing where they cut a hole in your skull to let the evil spirits out?" Victor interrupted.  
" Don't interrupt me, but essentially that's correct." They continued. "Back then, medicine was rather simple. Humour theory wasn't even a concept yet. In those days, I was voracious for knowledge. Not just medical knowledge, I dabbled in the fledgling sciences of alchemy and astronomy. I grew frustrated with the lack of resources to expand my knowledge. The political climate of the day was prejudiced against my race. I desperately wanted more educational opportunities. That's why I made my very first deal with The Devil. Oh, I shouldn't continue. I'll reveal too much." They focused on the task for a minute in silence.  
"There done." They began picking up the scraps of bloody string from off the table and took it over to a trash can. Victor watched them smell it before tossing it in. Just take a a big ol' whiff, like a creep.

"I have thought of your next errand. Find me an Eternity Flower. They are exceedingly rare and only grow parasitically out of corpses in the forest. The preservation properties of this flower are remarkable, they don't preserve life, they only halt decay." Valdemar announced like they were doing Victor a favour. "I have a picture in a book in my office. It's through that door, on the desk. Go get it and bring it here."  
"What is it, suddenly your legs don't work?" Victor complained.  
"Do it because I said so, you know what happens when you test my patience. Consider this part of your errand."  
And so it was final.  
Victor went to search for the book. Perhaps this task was for the purpose of letting Victor see their office for the first time. The door was heavy to open, and it was completely dark in there with no obvious potential light sources. He decided to just prop the door open with a book that was decidedly not the one he was looking for. There wasn't much in this space. There was only a desk, 2 chairs on either side of the desk and a bookcase. Between their estate, their office and the main dungeon,Victor was learning that Valdemar enjoyed a minimalist aesthetic but also collecting memento mori. It was immediately obvious which book they had been talking about. There was only one on the desk. Besides that, there was a parchment, quill and inkpot, and a child sized human skull. The skull showed signs of blunt force trauma. Victor had read that phrase in a murder mystery novel and he'd liked how that sounded. In this case, blunt-force trauma meant that the skull had an irregular shaped hole with which thin cracks branch off like the roots of a tree to cover half the surface. Over all, it looked very fragile. The quill and parchment were perfectly normal. Victor picked up the designated book. It had a plain looking leather cover, with the words "Legendary Flora" in bold green font. He exited the office and walked back over to valdemar. "That's a good duckling." They said and took the book from him to flip through it. "Ah, here." They flipped the book around to show a picture of an unassuming, six petaled purple flower with long, thin leaves. "Get it to me as soon as possible, although I fully expect it will take you a month of searching everyday to find one." They gave Victor the book to him and he put it on the operating table. "I'll let you take that as a reference." they said.  
"If I get one to you in 2 weeks or less can I have a prize?" Victor looked up at them, batted his eyelashes and smiled sweetly.  
"Never make that foolish face again, it won't work on me." Valdemar scolded.  
"I didn't think it would." Victor took a risk by moving closer to grip Valdemar at the waist with both hands. "I'd still like a reward if I'm a good boy." He spoke softly.  
To his surprise, Valdemar put their hands over his rather than push him away. "How bold of this mere human to think he can make demands of me and initiate physical contact." They said darkly, then took two steps, causing Victor to walk backwards into the table.  
They leaned in really close to his face and said "I'll consider rewarding you." How was Valdemar's breath warm when their skin was so cold? They smelled like mint and...iron?  
"You know what, I think it turns you on when I'm bold." Victor purred.  
Valdemar spun around, away from him. "I don't get 'turned on'." They denied.


	9. Author's note

Hey demonfuckers! Thanks so much for 200+ hits. I didn't expect to get that far.  
I made themed playlists for Victor, Valdemar and Volta which I will now link.  
Valdemar:  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLHEd4HzqzVOlhYhZ3kBa5ZqsA4EI-iJVR 

Victor:  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLHEd4HzqzVOniFONgYT3ufqjITkm6hYGo 

Volta:  
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLHEd4HzqzVOmkdYiytpzmA_VxChaZqPCk 

The Valdemar one is actually what I listen to when I'm writing a chapter.  
Also, I have a Tumblr sideblog that was meant to be a Volta RP/headcanon blog, but I only have 8 followers and so far no asks. Victor is willing to answer your questions in the comments of this fic, and only this fic.

@smolhungry-puppy-volta on tumblr


	10. A meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter, but I thought that continuing on to the next scene would make it too long, so we'll save that for next time. I want to get a chapter posted at least once a week. Things are really moving along, huh? This chapter's fairly light hearted?

The next morning Victor woke up before dawn to packed a satchel with adventuring gear, the Legendary Flora book and a sack lunch. He put on his street clothes for the first time in over a month. This included a green peasant blouse, light brown leather trousers, dark grey woolen cloak and black leather hiking boots. He was going to get right on it with finding this Eternity Flower. He tiptoed out of the dormitory doors and closed the door softly behind him. He didn't have permission to take the day off.  
Valerius was coming down the hall towards the kitchen staff dorm. Why would he be in this part of the palace? "You, Victor Chekov. Come with me." He commanded. They reached him and gripped his upper arm. "Uh why? I have things to do." Victor whined.  
"There is a council meeting. Vlastomil told you to be at this one, yes."  
"There's a council meeting at Five-fucking-AM?" Victor said in disbelief.  
"My colleagues are very odd. I'm not happy about it either."  
Victor pulled his arm free of the unwanted touch, then followed after Valerius. 

The room Valerius led him to was a very stereotypical meeting room. There were portraits of all the former counts/countesses of Vesuvia on the walls. The focal point of the room was a large round table with eight regal, high backed chairs around it. Valdemar, Volta, Volgora, and Vlastomil were already there.  
"Sorry I'm late, I didn't want to come." Valerius announced. He and Victor sat down on opposite sides of the table. From Victor's left, sat Volta, then Vlastomil, Valerius, Valdemar, then two empty seats and finally Volgora to Victor's immediate right.  
"May we please get immediately to the the business involving Victor." Valdemar spoke up. "So that I may leave." They weren't sitting in their chair, nor made any indication that they were going to. They just stood behind it, hands resting on the chair back.  
"Eager to escape back to your pit of stench and despair as always, Valdemar?" Vlastomil replied. "You're not skipping this meeting that easily, now that we have you here. However, Victor may go when we are done talking with him."  
Vlastomil and Valerius turn their attention to him.  
"We understand you have some sort of arrangement with Valdemar." Valerius said. "And we understand that Volta considers you a friend with whom she has many social visits."  
Victor didn't like the tone the consul addressed him in.  
"It's not so much an arrangement, as a debt. In order to pay them back for performing an expensive surgery, I must do whatever errand Valdemar tells me to do for one year. But yes, Volta and I sometimes chat when I bring her snacks. That is one of my duties as no one else in the kitchen wants to be involved with any of you courtiers." He explained.  
"But you do. Why is that?" Valerius continued.  
"I'm odd, I guess. You all are even odder than me, and that is intriguing. The servants of this palace are generally good people, but they're wussy."  
"Interesting."  
Vlastomil spoke up next. "Considering your already considerable involvement with us, we would like to offer you the position of Private Butler to The Courtiers. This would include a private bedchamber for yourself and a pay raise, as well as increased access to all our estates. Provided you were supposed to be there that day. You would get to spend much more time with the five of us than you do already, although probably not in equal amounts. Volgora has stated they have no use for a butler, however I beseech Volta to let you help clean her estate. In agreeing to accept this position, you promise not to steal from us or divulge any of our secrets, under penalty of death. Do you accept?"

Victor pretended to think about it for a moment. "Alright, I accept."  
Volta spoke up next. "Hey, I don't need him cleaning my house. My collection in priceless and unique."  
"Ha, no it's still hoarding even if the mess is valuable." Volgora said.  
Volta sniffed in Victor's general direction.  
"Do you have snacks in your purse?" She asked.  
"Yes, but it's not a purse. It's a very manly canvas satchel."  
"Can I have some of your food?"  
"Fine." Victor pulled out the pouch with his lunch; cheese melted on bread and a bunch of grapes. Volta took it eagerly.  
"It's definitely a purse." Volgora commented, obviously to incite an argument. Victor didn't take the bait.  
"I think that's all we needed you for. Victor, you may go." Valerius addressed him. "I suggest you start collecting your belongings. I'll be around soon to take you to your new room."


	11. A room and a forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor goes out in search of an Eternity Flower, but someone is stalking him.  
> I wrote this while high, so the pacing seems weird, and the dialogue awkward, but I don't know how to fix it.

As much as Victor wanted to get right to task with searching for that Eternity Flower, he needed to go back down to his dormitory to pack. It had sounded like Valerius had wanted to show him to his new bedchamber today. He could be wrong, though. Valerius wasn't exactly reliable. This whole "Butler to the Courtiers" thing had been sprung upon Victor so suddenly. So many things had been happening to him in the past month. Victor was giddy with the anticipation of further adventure.  
Victor didn't own much to pack. He had a few clothes and a shiny rock collection and a couple books: The memoir of a pirate captain, and an anthology of ghost stories.   
His other roommates were very curious as to why he was packing. Victor had hoped to escape this very sort of questioning by sneaking out so early that morning. All for naught, and if anything, getting a promotion was an even bigger deal than going on a quest for a flower.  
"Did you get the terms of the agreement in writing?" Asked a baker named Hugo.  
"No, it was verbal."  
"You should definitely ask for a written contract, just for your own protection. You know how Vlastomil likes to convict people for the slightest infractions." He continued.  
"How's this going to work? They're sharing you? So you're just going to be passed around like a pipe at a party?" Asked Chef Apollo.  
"I guess." Victor said. "That's an odd way to put it, sounds almost dirty."  
"Man, you're going to be so much more busy than now." Said Babouche."And you're okay with this? I thought you liked to get out of hard work."  
"Sure, but it'll probably be much more interesting than the kitchen. Imagine all the secrets I'll be privy to." He rationalised.   
There was a knock at the dormitory door. That'll probably be Valerius.  
"Come in, it's unlocked." Victor called.  
The door opened and it wasn't Valerius. It was Valdemar.  
"Oh hey, will you be taking me to my new room?" Victor grabbed his meager belongings and practically skipped over to them.  
"Why would I be here if I wasn't?" They said, as the two made their way down the hall. "Valerius could not be found. Most likely he passed out drunk somewhere."  
Victor laughed.  
"It's not funny. It's nine AM. He needs to take his job more seriously. It negatively affects everyone when he doesn't."   
They wound their way through many corridors, before finally stopping at a wooden door carved with a design of exotic flowers. Valdemar took a key out of their pocket and handed it to Victor.  
He turned the key in the lock.  
The room was beautiful, certainly not the most majestic in the palace, but still a considerable upgrade from where he'd been sleeping for the past almost two years. To his right, there was a four-poster bed with sheer purple curtains and blue silk sheets. It was big enough for two people.  
To the left was a mirror vanity table, and a large bureau as intricately carved as the door, both painted black. There was a folksy handwoven rug covering about half of the floor. Full length windows with the same purple curtains as the bed stood opposite the door. Victor set his bags down on the bed. He turned back to Valdemar, who was still in the doorway. "It's good that you came to get me, because I was hoping to ask you some questions regarding Eternity Flowers."  
"Oh really?"  
"When I find one, do you want me to pick it, or do you want it still attached to the corpse, or dried or something else?"   
"It should still be attached to at least a portion of the corpse, so it can continue to feed." Valdemar explained with an amused look.  
"There's one more thing that I've been wondering. The other day, when I arrived to the dungeon and you weren't there, was that some sort of test of trust? Were you watching from somewhere?"  
They smiled a wide, wicked grin. "Yes to both."  
"Did I pass?"   
"You confirmed my hypothesis, but there was no pass or fail."   
Victor paused for a bit, and they just stared at each other. He wasn't sure what to do next. A part of him wanted to invite Valdemar into his new room, but he suspected that wouldn't go over well, given the usual implications of two people alone in a bedroom.   
"I'm still hoping to get out to the woods today." He said finally.  
"I won't hold you up." Valdemar turned to leave.

\--------------------------------------------------------------  
The forest began just outside the west edge of the palace grounds. It was pisces season. The forest was beautiful this time of year. Fog hung low over the forest floor, dew covered delicate budding spring flowers and the deciduous trees had begun to bud new leaves, yet it was rather warm. It never got truly cold in Vesuvia, but just a month ago, a light jacket would be recommended.  
Nature has its ways of hiding death from plain sight, so Victor did not see a single corpse after an hour of walking, then the first one he saw, a hawk, had no flower growing out of it. Victor wished he had a skill in hunting, because the fastest way to go about this quest would probably be to create many corpses and wait around for one to attract an eternity flower. The book had said the seeds were carried by the wind. Alas, he had not lived a life that had required him to hunt. He had a machete strapped to his hip, which he could use to cut through brush if needed. Cool, but not exactly ideal for hunting. He wondered if it counted as cheating on his task to ask Volgora to assist him.   
If Victor walked any further, he feared he would become lost. Knowing this, he decided to climb a tall tree. He was really good at that. Four stories off of the ground, Victor surveyed the area for anything that might indicate a corpse, like wolves or vultures. Nope. The palace was still a prominent figure in the east and beyond that, the City lay on the horizon's edge.  
He climbed down, disappointed but also reassured of his location.   
He had not decided yet whether he would spend the night in the forest. He had been prepared to, but then Volta had eaten his lunch. Victor figured he might as well collect firewood to pass the time.   
An hour later, Victor had as many sticks as he could carry, so he set them down and began clearing a circle from dead leaves and grass so that just dirt remained. He dug out a shallow hole about 2 feet wide to place his firewood. It was more strenuous than it sounds. He decided to take a break before starting a fire, so he took off his cloak and laid it down a safe distance from the fire pit.   
No sooner had he sat down than an odd feeling settled in his stomach. Someone or something was watching him. He stood up and looked around frantically but saw nothing. He put his hand on the hilt of the machete. Victor heard a rustling to his right and turned just in time to glimpse a tall, white figure disappear into some bushes. It was only a split second view, not enough time to make out any detail. Victor picked up his cloak and bag. If something is stalking you, you should not run, but walk briskly to safety. If you run from a bear or wolf, it will decide you are indeed prey and chase you. You cannot outrun either animal. You cannot show fear. Not that he thought it was a bear or wolf. His intuition told him it was a person or some other intelligent being. Still, a person can be just as predatory as a wolf. He walked swiftly back the way he had come, but not too swiftly, purposefully walking with loud footfalls and swinging arms to hopefully indicate a strength he did not truly have. At some point, Victor felt like he was no longer being followed, but he did not stop his trek back to the palace. He wouldn't feel safe until he was back in his new room with the door locked.  
Victor planned to tell Valdemar of this incident next time he saw them.


	12. Please sit on my face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for graphic sexual fantasies, though if you've read this far, you probably like that. Just this chapter earns an Explicit rating, but I won't change it for the whole book, because most of the other chapters are pretty tame.  
> Yay, posting two chapters in one day. You're welcome.

Victor had a few theories about what he'd seen in the woods. It stood too erect to be a wolf, and too pale to be a bear. It could have been a person in a cloak. It could have been a ghost.  
If it was a person in a cloak, then who would be following him? Most likely he knew them. Any of the courtiers would have a motive, but it couldn't have been Volta. The figure had been too tall. Still it could have been a hermit whose territory he had been trespassing on.  
And if it was a ghost, well, no need for him to worry. They had nothing to do with him.  
Also it could be a yeti, but he'd only ever heard of those being far southeast of Vesuvia, living in the mountains. Probably not a yeti.  
Victor thought about all of this from the safety of his new, and very soft bed. He wasn't tired yet. You know, a privilege of having a private room was that you could vigorously masturbate and no one would care, naked even. There's an idea. He hadn't had a private wank in ages, though he'd had plenty of lewd fantasies about Valdemar while drifting off to sleep next to his coworkers. Victor got up to undress. He hadn't gotten laid since before Luke died, but before he met Valdemar, he hadn't minded, even though he'd met many beautiful people in his travels. Actually, he'd thought of trying to take Volta to bed a couple times, but he knew Volgora would murder him if he did. The deal he made with The Devil had specified that he'd 'never empathise with or become emotionally invested in a human ever again.' But the Courtiers weren't human, huh. That must be why he got along with them so well. Actually, Valerius looked human and seemed normal enough, but Victor didn't know him well enough to be certain.  
If Victor's vagina had a mind of its own, it's internal monologue whenever he looked at Valdemar would be "Top me, please. Tie me up and finger me until I faint. Fucking dom me. Straddle me and mark my neck and chest with your beautiful mouth."  
There was a long, thin perfume bottle on the vanity that would make a sufficient dildo. Victor picked that up and got back in bed.  
He'd do anything if only Valdemar would walk through his door right now and go down on him. Everything about them was gorgeous. Their smile, their long eyelashes, the subtle freckles across their nose, their long slender legs, their large but elegant hands, which knowing how precise they were with surgery, he knew if Valdemar ever fingered him it would be mind blowing. Victor would be willing to return the favour but he'd seen that one time that Valdemar did not have genitals. He'd gladly eat that ass, though. The mental image of them sitting on his face, their cheeks flushed, eyes closed, moaning his name, sent Victor over the edge. "Oh please, Valdemar." He sighed before stilling his hands.  
He should probably get dressed and see if Valdemar is down in the dungeons, since he needed to tell them about the figure in the woods. He might ask if they wanted assistance with anything else, too.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------  
Victor got as far as the lift to discover it was locked, and he did not have the key.  
"Valdemar! Are you down there?" He yelled. He doubted even a demon could hear him this far away, but it was worth a shot.  
A moment later, there was a click and the iron gate to the lift creaked open. Hm. Just how good was their hearing? Victor stepped inside.  
As he set foot in the entryway to the secret dungeon, he heard Valdemar call out. "I'm in my office." He made his way over there.  
Valdemar sat at their desk, which this time was covered in books and papers. "What do you need?" They said without looking up from reading.  
"Something interesting and mildly terrifying happened to me in the forest yesterday. Something was watching me from the bushes and following me. I didn't get a good look at them, but it was tall and white. My gut feeling was that it was menacing and intelligent. I came home early because of that."  
"Interesting. It wasn't me. That's all I know. Carry a protection amulet next time, and can you create a force field?"  
"Not reliably, and not bigger than a dinner tray."  
"Practice that. I don't know what other advice to give, but I do find the situation very intriguing. Don't let this put you off from continuing your search." Valdemar advised.  
"I promise I'll get you that flower." Victor leaned his elbows on the desk, head in hands. The top button of his shirt was undone. He knew they could see down his shirt from this angle. Valdemar turned their eyes back to their book. "Is that all, then?"  
"I don't know, do you need assistance with anything?" He winked. "Since I am your butler now."  
"I'm okay."  
Victor came around to Valdemar's side of the desk and sat on the edge. "Whatchu readin'?"  
"Get off my desk, you'll scatter the papers." They squinted at him menacingly.  
Victor put a foot in their lap. "Make me."  
In a flash, Victor was knocked to the floor, then just as fast yanked to his feet and out the office door. "How dare you put your dirty boot on my clean uniform!" Oh shit. They weren't playing.  
They threw him on an operating table and began strapping him down. "I'm leaving you here for an hour to reconsider your recent behaviour." Valdemar went back to their office.  
Victor squirmed in the restraints. "Hey come back, I'll let you do whatever you want, babe."  
A moment later, Valdemar came back out of the office holding a strip of cloth. They approached Victor and pet his cheek before gagging him with the cloth. "Do shut up. I'm not your babe. All I want right now is to complete my research in peace." They placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "You'll continue to be disappointed for a very long time with your attempts to seduce me." They ran a hand down his chest and stomach, lingering a few seconds over his crotch, before turning back toward the office. Victor thought that statement was very hypocritical of them, seeing how they use every opportunity available to fluster and tease him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the longest single work I've ever written.  
> Yeah, not so impressive, but I'm proud of me for sticking to it. The story will probably be 20 chapters over all.


	13. Another Deal

It was a week after Victor was strapped to an operating table as punishment and he'd still had no luck finding an Eternity Flower. He'd been outside at least a couple hours everyday, searching. He'd been over to Volta's estate to try to clean, but that had quickly turned into playing dress up, baking pies together, and falling into a food coma on a pile of clothes. The mess when Victor left was worse than before. He'd also been to Vlastomil's estate to help with the worm menagerie and gardening, but Vlastomil did most of the work and seemed excited to have a captive audience to educate about his interests. He's not really a bad guy if you can get over his sickly appearance and peculiar interests.   
Anyways, on his eighth day of searching, just as the sun was setting in the forest, the trees casting long shadows, with a light rain rolling in, Victor once again felt like he was being watched. The white figure had been absent all week, that or it had been especially sneaky. Victor was deep in the woods, and with it getting dark, it would be dangerous to head back now. He'd set up a lean-to of branches and woven reeds to shield him and his fire from the rain.   
A rustling sound came from behind the shelter. He felt an aura of evil settle around him like fog, giving him goosebumps. Victor knew this meant he was a sitting duck, fire in front of him, wall of sticks behind and on either side. He had his sword and had practiced projecting a force field, but what use were those when it was too dark to see more than a metre in front of him.   
"I know you're out there. It would be a lot less creepy of you if you just showed yourself and told me what you wanted." Victor called. It was worth a shot.  
More rustling before a tall figure appeared, lit up orange from below by the fire between them. He had white fur, four black horns, and a black and gold vest that was clearly for decoration rather than for modesty. "The Devil Arcana, we meet again." Victor said. Smooth.  
"Hello Victor Chekov, I've been hearing a lot about you recently. How's the heartlessness working out for you?" They grinned, well, devilishly.  
"What do you want?" Victor wanted them to leave him alone. "Why are you following me?"  
"What are you searching for, perhaps I could provide some assistance?"  
"Why would you help me?"   
"You're so close to reaching your destiny, Victor Chekov. You've been going right along with my plan whether you knew it or not. What's one more deal if you've already made three, then you can get this quest done with and get on with obsessing over that pretty doctor of yours.." The devil explained cryptically.  
"What do you mean? This is only the second time I've met you." Victor stood up and looked the devil in the eyes. Geez, this goat was taller than even Vlastomil.  
"Oh, don't you know, your little "arrangement" with Valdemar and your employment as a butler counts as a magically binding demonic deal. You didn't think they'd taken you in from the goodness of their heart, did you? The more deals you make, the more beholden to me you will become."  
"On the topic of being beholden to you," Victor began, "I've never really understood what it means that you "get my soul after I die." Does that mean I'll be some sort of ghost slave or do you, uh, plan to eat me or what?"  
The Devil chuckled, "You'll figure out what it means soon enough, but no I don't plan to eat you. You'd probably taste like shit, like the tiny, depraved asshole you are."  
"I'm not tiny, I'm average height, you're just freakishly tall. Also, I'm not an asshole, I try to be a gentleman and loyal to my friends." He crossed around the fire, almost chest to chest with the Devil. Actually, more like chest to stomach.  
"Oh don't take my words as insults. All my favourite people are assholes, and really, would a gentleman lure a poor, innocent prostitute to her death? So what do you say, I can just summon an eternity flower for you, do we have a deal?"  
Victor rolled his eyes. "Does Valdemar just tell you everything, then? Sure, we have a deal." He held out his hand and The Devil shook it. It felt like static electricity passed between them.

The Devil withdrew from the handshake, and rubbed his palms together. They began to put off a dark purple aura, visibly crackling with electricity, he slowly pulled his hands apart like they were magnets resisting separation. The aura between them developed a smoky quality, and a solid shape began to form. It was a white rabbit which decayed about a month's worth in a matter of seconds. A plant then sprouted from the rabbit's side, with long grass-like leaves in a fanned out pattern, and finally a purple bud blossomed on the end of a long stem. The aura subsided and The Devil now held a fully grown Eternity Flower, sprouted from the side of a corpse that had never lived.  
He handed it to Victor, who cradled it to his chest gingerly. "Thank you." He said.  
"No, thank you, small one."  
While Victor tuned to set down his present in the lean-to, The Devil had disappeared into thin air.   
This guy was fucking with his head and Victor very much did not appreciate that.  
Victor settled in for a quiet night next to a small crackling fire, listening to the rain patter on the leaf-roof of his shelter. Water droplets would sometimes seep through and cause the fire to sizzle and jump. The combination of the rain soaked earth and wood smoke was a really great smell. On the topic of smells, he'd noticed that the rabbit carcus did not smell even though it looked like it should.  
He would still have liked to get it back to Valdemar as soon as possible, but it was unwise to traverse the woods at night. Too easy to get lost in the low light, not to mention predators that hide in the shadows waiting to pounce.  
The moon through the trees was a sliver tonight, but a modest moon makes the billion stars just that much more breathtaking in comparison. Victor could understand on a night like this why mankind had created religion. It was something miraculous and holy to be a part of the great beauty of nature. It was easy to imagine his ancestors dating back centuries sitting in front of campfires in little shacks just like his, listening to the rain and watching out for predators. It was the most natural thing one could feel.

After his talk with The Devil, he'd certainly felt like he was part of a bigger picture. He was also certain that it wasn't a very pleasent bigger picture. In his mind's eye he saw himself chained in darkness, only making out stone walls and an incomprehensible monster stared at him with their hundred eyes,from the shadows. They laughed with pure joy, a sound that was only frightening due to its contrast with the surroundings. Victor didn't need to see himself to know he was monstrous too. He felt his heart tied in to all that evil darkness. It filled him with hungry, energizing madness. He was not afraid. He belonged here.

Victor came back to reality, and realised he had tears streaming down his cheeks, chest heaving a sob. Lit by firelight, in the world of his ancestors, Victor mourned his connection to this world and its people.


	14. "Volta Tried To Eat Me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this took so long for me to update, but I am homeless again for the fourth time in as many years, so my mind has been more focused on survival than on fantasy. 
> 
> Volta terrorises the kitchen staff, Victor is injured, and Valdemar has a confession to make.

Victor had gotten home alright and the first things he had done were to set down the rabbit/flower on his vanity table, take a bath and go to be even though it was like noon. The rabbit with the eternity flower in it had been awkward to carry back to the palace, as he hadn't wanted to squish the flower or get guts on his clothes. It took nearly twice as long to get back as it should have and he felt disgusting and exhausted. He woke up starving as the sun was setting, having realised that he hadn't eaten in about 48 hours. He was getting dressed for the day when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and something seemed off. He got in close to look in his own mouth. Victor thought his canines looked different. They'd always been prominent, but today they looked inhumanly long and pointy, both the top and bottom canines. Also, his tongue had a blue stripe down the middle about a centimetre wide, and Victor knew for a fact that he hadn't eaten anything to turn his mouth blue. Odd. Victor would have thought that it would take a lot more involvement than he'd had with The Devil and his posse for it to corrupt him to the point that it showed itself physically. Did this mean that Valerius was hiding a demonic nature, too. The pompous bastard been working closely with the other courtiers for who knows how long.  
Anyway, dinner.. Victor may have had a promotion but that did not mean that he was now important enough to get food delivered to his room, but he did know that there was usually a trolley of food delivered to the end of the hall so that everyone who slept in this wing of the palace could help themselves.

Ah well, there usually was, but apparently not today. Just an empty hallway, what time was it anyway? Victor supposed he'd have to go all the way down to the kitchen and fix himself something. You know, like a peasant.   
He started his trek across the palace.   
Immediately upon reaching the hallway to the kitchen, he could hear something was off. There was a sound of a lot banging against would and multiple screams. One of which sounded like Volta. Oh no, not this agmHe swung open the doors with urgency.

Volta was standing on the main prep table surrounded by pleading kitchen staff on the ground level, a few more cowering in the corner. She had some kind of cream soup spilled all down the front of her dress, one hand held a chef's knife and the other held a chicken leg. "Give me all the food. Let me see the pantry. I need it.my tummy rumbles so bad." She screamed.  
"We can't let you do that. Don't be greedy, procurator." The head chef said with a strained tone.   
"I need to take inventory, it is my job." She whimpered.   
"You can't fool me, Lady Volta. We won't let you, if your idea of "taking inventory" is to inhale all the food on sight."   
She noticed Victor in that instant. Her eyes pleaded for help for a split second before she took a flying leap off the table in the direction of the pantry. Her legs connected with someone's head and they were both knocked to the floor, but she quickly recovered and tried to sprint the rest of the way to the pantry. Her attempt was unsuccessful as Victor tackled her, knocking her back to the floor, straddling her, his hands pinning her wrists. "Play nice, dear Volta." He said. "I need you to calm down and then we can both have something nice to eat, in a reasonable quantity. We can take our trays out to the balcony overlooking the gardens if you like, hm?"   
Volta kicked her spindly legs and continued to scream. "It hurts. That won't do. I need all the food. It hurts and it won't ever stop." Her expression looked pure anguish. She squirmed and managed to get her face up to Victor's upper right arm. Her teeth sank into his bicep and she jerked her head back, taking a chunk of his flesh with her. Victor yanked his arm up to his side in pained reflex as he watched in shock when she chewed and swallowed. Blood spurted freely from his wound onto her face and dress. It was then that Volta seemed to come to her senses.  
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." Her eyes welled up with tears. "Will you be alright?"  
Making sure Volta was sane again was more important than his pain. "I'll be fine, will you behave if I let you go now?"  
"Oh yes." They scooted away from each other. Volta had somehow managed to hold on to her chicken leg though all the commotion, and she turned her attention to that. Victor's circular, mouth sized hole continued to bleed profusely, staining his white uniform. She'd bitten right through the fabric and he could see red, stringy muscle through the hole. He looked up at the servants who were now just standing around watching.  
"If you have any leftovers from dinner, could we please have 2 trays and we'll take our leave.  
Someone got to work on that, and Victor ripped off his bloody shirt sleeve and wrapped it tightly around his bicep as a bandage. He could go to Valdemar about it later, but first, he was literally starving, and the Volta Wrangling wasn't quite over yet. 

Soon they had their trays and went to the balcony as promised. She'd already finished her dinner on the walk over. "Once again, I'm so sorry about your arm. I couldn't think straight."   
"It's fine. I won't bleed to death." Victor assured her, setting down his tray on the ledge. "Speaking of blood, you've got something on your face." She raised up a hand to her face to wipe herself, and licked her chin, then her fingers. Then his fingers.   
"Now there's a sight I would have liked to see in much different circumstances." He smiled behind a buttered roll.  
"What? Oh," she blushed, letting go of his hand. "Oh my, you're incorrigible."  
"I'm so sorry." She apologised again. "If it's any consolation, you taste delicious."  
Victor coughed. "Anyway, moving on. Remember how I told you about the quest Valdemar had sent me on? Well, I'm now successfully in possession of an Eternity Flower. "   
"That's great! More time to spend with me rather than in those scary woods."   
Victor stood up to leave.   
"Aren't you going to take our trays back?" Volta asked.  
"That's not my job anymore, find a scullery maid. I should really get a move on." He winced, he was beginning to feel light headed and the fingers on his injured arm felt numb. He thought Volta must have severed a vein, and he might very well bleed to death. His entire right side was covered in blood. "Good night, Volta. Stay out of trouble."

He decided to skip picking up the eternity flower, and just go find Valdemar. Halfway to the dungeons and they almost ran into each other. "Oh no, what's happened to you?" Valdemar grabbed his arm to examine.   
"Volta tried to eat me." He explained.  
Valdemar laughed so hard that they doubled over.   
"It's not funny. I'm in a lot of pain."   
"Yes of course." They caught their breath. "Let's get you patched up." They lead him back to the library.  
About the time the two reached the lift, Victor started to feel unsteady on his feet. The combination of pain, blood loss and coming out of shock was taking a toll on him. He leaned against Valdemar, resting his head on their shoulder. "I'm going to pass out."  
"You'll be fine." They assured, wrapping an arm around his waist. "We're almost there, keep your arm elevated above your head." Victor wrapped his injured arm around their neck. "You're gonna get bloody." He mumbled.   
"Far from the first time." they said as the lift came to a halt. They picked him up bridal style, carrying him the rest of the way to their office. The papers on the desk magically stacked themselves neatly on the floor, and a Victor was set upon the desk. Valdemar rushed out of the room and came back seconds later with a medical kit. They untied the ripped shirt sleeve Victor had used as a bandage and examined the still freely bleeding hole in his arm. "That will need to be cauterised. She really got you good, tearing right through your cephalic vein. I wouldn't be surprised if you have permanent nerve damage. It will take several months to heal completely, and you'll need to pack the wound regularly." They produced a flame in their hand, one with real heat, not just a flickering light like Victor might do, and pressed it to his wound. The pain of being burned was the tipping point that made him pass out. 

When Victor awoke, he had been moved to a surgical table, his arm was numb and bandaged. He sat up, but his head still swam. He was no longer in his bloody clothes, but instead in a nightgown that was a bit too large on him. A white, sleeveless one, identical to what he'd seen Valdemar wear to the bath that one night. Valdemar was on the other side of the room, cleaning their instruments at a sink. "What time is it?" He asked them. "Three AM, good morning sleepyhead." They singsonged.  
"Ugh, don't try to be cheery, I'm developing a headache."  
Valdemar finished up their chore and approached Victor. "Got it, big bad monster it is then." They said in a darker tone. " A new uniform will be sent to your room by morning. Have you made any progress in finding me an eternity flower?"  
"Oh good news." Victor grinned. "I have one in my room right now."  
"Excellent, that was much quicker than I expected. You're lucky you had The Devil around to give you a hand."  
"How did you know?" Victor gave them a suspicious look.  
"Almost immediately, I noticed the difference in your mouth. It's subtle, but I know the beginnings of a demonic transformation when I see one. Your aura has changed, too."  
"Right, obviously. I cheated. I wouldn't expect a reward now." Victor looked at his lap.  
"I wouldn't call it cheating because I never outlined through what means you must obtain an eternity flower. In fact, I'm proud of you." They took Victor's face in their gloved hands and made him look them in the eyes. "You're slowly revealing yourself to be the sort of man I can respect and rely on. I can't say that about very many people, dead or alive. Now let's go get that flower from your bedchamber."  
Victor caught Valdemar's wrist when they tried to turn away.   
"What?"   
"Kiss me?" He whispered.  
They grinned, catlike. "Let's have a look at that Eternity Flower first." Victor really liked the implications their words held.   
Victor got off the table and his vision went dark for a moment, knees quaking. Then his remaining blood caught up to his brain, and he followed after Valdemar.  
In the lift, they reach into their apron pocket, pulling out a cookie. "Here, get your blood sugar up." Victor took the cookie but examined it with suspicion. "You didn't do anything weird to it, did you?"  
"Don't you trust me?" They said, pretend offended.  
"Hey, I don't know what all you did while I was unconscious."


	15. Fuckin finally!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time wiring smut. Well, we got damn close a few times, but it wasn't the bulk of the chapter. I hope it's sexy enough and not awkward. I'm changing the rating to explicit because of this chapter.   
> Also, this is officially the longest single thing I've ever written, including stuff for school.

Victor unlocked his bedroom door and gestured for Valdemar to come in.  
They immediately were drawn to the eternity flower on the vanity. They approached slowly, awed, and kneeled with their face a few inches from the rabbit carcass.  
"It's beautiful." They stroked a petal like it was a lover. They turned to face him. "Thank you."  
They looked almost to be vibrating with restrained excitement. "I have great plans for this flower. It'll get a thorough examination, then, I'll take a clipping to splice, and I'll dry the rest for potions. I'll dissect the rabbit, too. We wouldn't want such a beautiful specimen to go to waste."  
"So, I believe I requested a reward if I procured for you an eternity flower within two weeks, you said you'd consider it. Have you?"  
Valdemar got to their feet and moved closer to Victor who was still over by the door. "I did, and luckily for you, I am in a really good mood today. What do you desire?"  
He blushed beet red as a thousand scenarios flashed through his head in rapid succession, most too embarrassing to ever say aloud.  
Valdemar reached behind Victor to lock the deadbolt. "I need to hear you say it, or how could I know how to reward you?" The whispered milimetres from his earlobe, their breath sending shivers down his spine. Victor backed up all the way against the door. They kissed his neck before latching on and sucking like they meant to leave an award winning hickey. The lead sucking sound and the imminent danger of sharp teeth made is brain fizzle and nethers grow hot. Victor wrapped his good arm around their waist to pull them flush against him. Their hands roamed up his back, and one stopped in his hair, the other on his ass.  
Valdemar stopped their work on his neck to repeat. "Say it." They tugged a bit on his hair.  
"Fuck me." He rolled his hips against their thigh.  
"You're going to need to be more specific."  
"Uh, finger me till I can't think straight. I love your beautiful fingers, you also have beautiful, sexy, long legs and I'd love to kiss all over them and hump your thigh like the unworthy, desperate dog that I am. I'd worship you, I'd need to be told how to make you come if you don't have genitals, but I'm going to do a stellar job. Tie me up and have your way with me, mark me as yours, slap me around, I really don't care what you do. Anything you can offer would be an honour beyond what I deserve. "  
He stopped talking to look at Valdemar's reaction to his words. They looked at him in...surprise, confusion? It wasn't a look you would expect to see in a sexual context. They backed away from him. "That's all very flattering, but you really shouldn't give someone like me permission to do whatever they want."  
"Now hold on," Victor said. "If you're just going to do your usual routine of roughing me up a bit, then leaving abruptly when it gets boring for you or whatever your problem is, then I don't want a reward. I'm tired of the mind games." A series of troubling micro expressions flashed over Valdemar's face.  
He continued."I don't want you to do something just to humour me. I know I constantly make suggestive comments, I'm a pervert, but I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with."  
They backed away, and gave an exasperated laugh. "You couldn't force me to do something if you tried. I am an immortal, nearly all-powerful creature of darkness, and I would like nothing more than to see you scream and squirm beneath me, the reason for my hesitation is that it does not matter to me whether those screams are from pain or pleasure or if the squirming is an attempt to escape. However, you are too valuable to die, so I must hold myself back. The line between rough sex and murder is a thin one. "Now, get on the damn bed, imp, before I change my mind."  
Victor did as he was told and looked at their master expectantly.Valdemar was focused on taking off their boots. "Can I assist you in that?"  
"If you want."  
He rushed to kneel at their feet. The knee high leather boots had a dozen little buttons running up the back. He undid them as quickly as he could with his dominant arm injured, periodically placing kisses on their shins. Valdemar stepped out of their boots, they undid their apron and dropped it over Victor's head before tackling him on to the bed. Victor groaned at the impact to his injury, then pushed the apron off his face. Valdemar had straddled him, directly over his crotch; they continued to undo buttons on their smock. "I'm loving the view." He quipped.  
He placed both hands on their thighs and bucked his hips a few times.  
"Patience, duckling." Valdemar tossed their smock and overshirt to the floor, then changed positions so that their forearms were on either side of Victor's head, and a knee was placed between his thighs. They leaned in to kiss, his cheek, jaw, neck and finally his lips. Their knee pushed up his borrowed nightgown and ground onto his bare sex. Victor broke the kiss to moan "Oh Yes, more please."  
"I barely do anything and you're already wrecked for me." Valdemar chuckled.  
"Oh yeah, I'm loud, so if you were hoping to keep this affair discrete, then you better gag me."  
"Oh I'd love too, but what with? Oh, I know." They whispered something in a foreign language, and his lips sealed on their own as if pinched shut. They moved their hand down between his legs, thumb pressing to his clit and rubbing a slow circle. The eye contact they made was intense. Valdemar picked up speed, then slipped a finger inside him and Victor gripped the bedsheets so as to not float off in ecstasy just yet.  
Valdemar slid off the bed, kneeling beside it and dragged Victor around to hook his legs over their shoulders. "I've decided that I want to hear you." They waved their hand and his lips were unsealed. Valdemar gripped him by his hips, essentially restraining him, and finally put their mouth exactly where Victor wanted it.  
"Oh fuck, thank you."  
For someone who claimed to not be familiar with physical intimacy, they sure seemed oddly familiar with "female" anatomy. They targeted Victor's clit and g-spot with relentless precision.  
In probably a single minute, when his pleasure was building toward release,Valdemar stopped their work.  
"What?" Victor looked down at them.  
"I'd like to see you grind against my leg like you promised."  
"Oh."  
Valdemar sat on the edge of the bed and Victor moved to straddle their lap, but Valdemar pushed him off.  
"I believe you said you were a "dirty dog", I wouldn't let a dirty dog sit in my lap."  
Victor repositioned himself at their feet, and ground himself against their bony shin. "Is this adequate, master?" He said in his best "Butler voice".  
Valdemar chuckled and patted his head. "Yes, good dog."  
Victor tried his hardest to get himself off just humping their leg like that, and was eventually successful. He collapsed, panting with his head in Valdemar's lap. "Are you sure there isn't anything I could do for you? I'd love to see your orgasm face." He offered.  
"I'm good."  
"Now what?" Victor asked, detangling himself from their legs. He had no idea what comes next. Valdemar didn't seem to be the sort to cuddle.  
"I suppose we make ourselves presentable and I take the flower back to my office." They began picking up their discarded clothes.  
Victor really wanted them to stay for a bit.  
"Wait, tell me about the red plague."  
They turned back around, smile wide.  
"Of course! there's so much to tell! So settle in, this'll be a long one." They began.

**Author's Note:**

> Who needs therapy when you can just project onto fictional characters.


End file.
